Oleg Yankovsky is a Russian poet working in Italy, and he really, really misses home. Masterpiece, noble failure, portentous drivel; I bet I could make a pretty good case that all of these are accurate assessments of Andrei Tarkovsky’s penultimate film. But regardless of how I’d rate the movie on the whole, I still have to complain about Tarkovsky’s excessive use of cryptic imagery and dialogue. It gets to a point where everything on screen feels like an inexperienced director’s unwieldy use of metaphor and symbolism. I can’t complain too much though, because I really did enjoy this film. Incredible use of lighting in the bedroom scene and the final image is so beautiful that it makes the whole two hours worth it. Barely watchable unless you’re in the mood for a super artsy film in which case I would give it a worth watching.